The Family Bed
by Happys Hitwoman
Summary: The place where you seek solace in each other is where you protect the ones you love from the world outside. One-shot Hap/Amanda - part of the 'Redemption' AU-verse


**A/N:**** So I read where reading and writing on a regular basis combats memory loss. So, in the spirit of combating Altzheimers, as well as interest in my Redemption saga from new readers, I'm jumping ahead two years after ****Bending The Rules**** and check in on Hap & Amanda with a one -shot to reminisce about the past, fill you in the present It'll be club-centric rather than a specific Son, though Toby will have quite a promising role. We'll see. But for now….enjoy some quiet**_** family**_** time.**

**I do not own SOA or any characters created by Kurt Sutter**

**~/~**

**Charming, CA**

**September, 2015**

It was rare in NorCal, this or any time of year.

Rain. Heavy - mixed with thunder and lightening. In all her years – from Charming to Manteca and back – Amanda never recalled it ever raining like this. In the dark silence of her bedroom, every sound was distinct as if tailor made - the heavy drops 'pinging' against the aluminum gutters, the splash against leaves of the blood-red Japanese maple tree until it fell with a pounding on the cedar mulch packing her flower beds.

As an adult, the sound was almost cathartic, soothing her into a relaxed state as she lay on her left side, towards the rain sheeting against the window, the lightening which illuminated it and the thunder which signaled both. But she was safe from all, surrounded by the comfort of her family. Her right hand slid up from her pelvis to press under the swell of her expanding belly, a small shoulder pressed into her back, a pair of crossed paws pinned down her ankle while the deep breathing of the only other adult in the room took up the other side.

It was a far cry from the rare rainstorms when she was a child – a faint smile gracing her lips as she closed her eyes in remembrance. She was six – barely a year after the woman she refused to refer to as 'mother' took off – when a storm such as this woke her in the dark of her bedroom. But being surrounded by her favorite Cabbage Patch doll and Pound Puppie wasn't enough to quell her fear of the booming thunder and flashing lightening. With her doll in one hand and puppie in the other, she had bolted out of bed and scurried down the hall into her dad's bedroom, careful to never wake him as she hoisted herself up at the foot of the newly empty side, curled herself around her toys and fell back to sleep, safe within the presence of the man who didn't abandon her.

Amanda's smile deepened at the memory as her hand lovingly rubbed her belly.

"She givin' ya a hard time?"

That smile intensified at her husband's gravelly voice – a sound that could both rival thunder and turn her to a puddle of rain at the same time. Slowly, she rolled onto her back, careful not to trap the tiny arm of two year old Will who was face down, bottom up and fast asleep sandwiched between his parents. She stretched her legs, disturbing Tank who finally stopped shaking like a leaf at the first crack of thunder before falling asleep across her feet. Sensing the kind of safety she had felt as a child during a night like this, the seven year old boxer repositioned himself– his face wedged snugly between Amanda's hip and Will's leg.

With the fading slivers of lightening piercing the slatted wood blinds, Amanda was able to make out those inquiring dark eyes and the medley of ink which colored his body. "How long you been awake?"

"Never fell asleep," he replied, head propped up in one hand while the other lightly stroked Wills' back. "So," that hand moved to cover hers laying against her belly. "She kickin'?"

Amanda shook her head. "Nah. Just...cuddling her."

_She. Her._ The celebration of Will's first birthday was followed by three unsuccessful attempts at in-vitro. Now seven months pregnant after a fourth, they were now expecting a girl.

A girl – which Hap calculated roughly twelve years to figure out clever ways to dissuade the male species which didn't come with a jail sentence. And not to put everyone, including Grandma Gemma, through a teeth-grinding waiting game for another nine months, they agreed to announce the baby's sex as soon as they found out. And prepared for all the comments.

"_Once she comes out, there's no puttin' 'er back, brutha,_ Chibs had told him_. "Best keep 'er inside the womb. Only place to keep 'er truly locked up."_

This was the easy part, Hap knew. Boys were different and even at a precocious two years old, Will had the personality of an old soul, thanks to him hanging around Toby too much. Redwood's twenty one year old newest patch had a sly, unassuming charm which came in handy when needing to either talk his way past security to do some club recon work or talk his way 'out' a sticky situation such as passing himself off as the new pool boy to the jealous husband of a married woman whose car he had to lift an illegal VIN off of.

And two year old Will was not only bright enough to pick up on it, but already possessed an impressive vocabulary for his age – learning how to get his way without making his parents realize he was, whether it was reading him 'just one more book' before bedtime or justifying that there was enough time before dinner for him to have a 'small' cookie or even splashing half his bath water onto the bathroom floor and blaming it on the dog.

Mischievousness aside, he was a good child - never a whiner or tantrum thrower, but a thankful balance of his mother's patience and his father's thoughtful quiet. And that thought was never more evident than when he was sitting on his father's lap, inspecting some of the disturbing images inked on his body, and trying to figure out on his own.

"_Daddy?"_

Hap knew that tone. The kid knew what he saw wasn't too nice, figured out as much, but still had to hear it for himself. Haps eyes had followed the tiny finger tracing the depiction of a deranged looking individual on his shoulder left shoulder holding a bloody knife. _"Yeah?"_

"_Um…"_ Hap had known Will wanted to ask. He never felt the need to cover his ink around his young son, as overly-curious as the toddler was. He knew he'd ask – he already had – and Hap gave his first lesson in parental discipline by teaching the kid that there's certain things you _don't _ask.

"_Um….what?"_ he has asked his son with a tone of his own.

The two year old scratched his head, wondering how to ask, but knowing he had already been admonished for it. Still, the kid was trying to find a way to charm the one person he couldn't, though he wasn't too fearless to try. He pointed to the ink again. "_Um, Daddy…can you….um…."_

He tried, but he couldn't finish. Instead, Hap did. _"What did I tell you the last time you tried to ask, buddy?"_

The child pulled his hand away, looking thoroughly defeated. "_Not to ask."_

"_And?"_

"_When I'm older."_

"_Then that's when I tell you."_

Will then counted on his fingers. "_I'm this many now_," he said, holding up two fingers_. "How many do I have to be?"_

He couldn't help but laugh at his tenacity.

Back in the present moment, he stared at his son sleeping between them as his hand caressed his unborn daughter through his wife's belly. Not to be forgotten in the mix, Tank let out something between a growl and a needy whine. "You're lucky you're in this bed," he told the dog.

"He doesn't understand all that racket outside," Amanda said, rubbing the dog's head then motioned to Will. "No different than him."

"This ain't gonna be a regular thing."

"What, you weren't scared of a thunderstorm when you were his age?" Amanda asked.

"Forget who you're talkin' to?"

A more mellow life consisting of club business which was ninety percent legitimate, a wife, a house, a dog, a child and another on the way hadn't dampened her husband's natural arrogance. Nor would she coddle it. "Like you remember being two?"

"I remember kickin' some kid off the monkey bars when I was six."

She gently played with Will's dark hair. "This what we have to look forward to?"

"Only if he has to put some little shit in his place."

"I better reserve two seats in the principal's office then," she playfully shot back, then glanced around. "This isn't what it used to be, Hap. This bedroom's our solace, but on night's like this, it's the family bed."

Solace was a mild word to describe what this room meant to the two of them. After her dad died, it was where Amanda grieved in privacy after putting a brave face on every day at the flower shop, it was where she woke up alone the morning after Hap carried her to bed – with the memory of her ex/late husband being dragged from the house to his certain demise, it was Christmas evening 2010, where he again carried her there, only this time to never leave, it was where she had laid face down, her skin fresh from a bath as he moved a tattoo needle across the back of her left shoulder, leaving no question who she belonged to from that moment on.

From then, it turned into a place where they left the gift shop, the club, the madness and sometimes the mayhem on the doorstep to lose themselves in each other. Sometimes it was tender turn towards each other, their hands clasped under the bedding, sometimes it was a quick morning romp after exhaustion claimed the night before.

Other times it was a joining as fierce, physical and violent as the storm raging outside.

"Might want to consider getting a bigger bed," Amanda interrupted his thoughts.

More than just the inhabitants of their bed changed. Though the club's involvement in outlaw activity was just enough to whet their appetite – an occasional gun run, Mayan heroin toll, the Nuestra Familia car parts wash - legitimate business from the garage, repo/auctions, storage facilities and the wildly popular Crow's Nest roadside bar and grill, the club was rolling in serious green. Hap's cut was always taken home and sorted out. After setting aside enough to take care of his family, Amanda legitimately banked half while a nice, healthy stack was put in a safety deposit box to be washed clean at a later date – and set aside for his childrens' future. Which included more than just a bigger family bed.

"Forget the bed, A – gonna need a bigger house."

She sighed. "I know."

"Been puttin' off lookin'," he told her. "Gonna need about three bedrooms." He rubbed her tummy a little firmer. "She can stay in the cradle with us, but she's gonna need her own."

Her husband was right. The extra bedroom which served as the nursery was now transformed into a little boy's room once the crib and changing table were taken out and replaced with Will's 'big boy bed'. They needed a bigger house with a yard where two children plus a dog could run around in, where she could plant double knock-out roses, hydrangeas and rhododendrons just like she did here. But this was her childhood home – where she was born, where she and her dad had each other's backs after the woman she refused to call 'mother' took off, where she came back to take care of him after cancer struck and where she remained after her marriage fell apart until she happened upon the man beside her in a cemetery one night who put everything back together. The pieces may have been jagged, but they fit. Somehow, she and Hap always 'fit'.

"It's just," she began, "this house….."

"I know," he replied in his best consolation voice. "Drawin' comes with us, remember."

It was statements such as this which floored her. The man who showed a love and consideration for her feelings without compromising one inch of who he was to the outside world certainly knew how to throw her for a loop.

There was only one drawing he could be referring to – the one she drew two years after she and her dad were left to their own devices. The one which she and a box of Crayolas created one evening depicting stick figures of them standing next to this house with a smiley faced sun shining above them. She remembered her explanation to Hap when he asked about it:

_"Drew it when I was seven – after my dad and I finally got on track. It's how I envisioned the two of us – together, in this house…happy. It meant a lot to him. He framed it and kept it by the back door – so it would be the last thing we saw before leaving the house."_

That 'smiley-faced sun' seems almost like an omen now as twelve replicas of them graced her husband's body for reasons which had nothing to do with a smile. And that drawing remained in the same spot – on the wall to the right of the back door. It was a remembrance that she and her dad would be okay. It would now be carried with them to a new home, maybe even a new one drawn to join it to depict her current family, though this time she might have to use the entire color scheme of crayons to draw her husband's arms alone.

"Only have two months left," she said, placing both hands on her belly. "Think we can hustle and find something we like, close, pack up and move before I push her out?"

A flash of lightening caused Tank to raise his head towards the window, before inching his way towards Hap's side. Giving in to the puss of a dog, he reached down and gave him a rough scratch under his jowls. "Or do like I said – keep 'er in here with us for a few months so we don't have to rush and look for a piece of land instead."

"_Land_? You mean…..build?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Customize our own home, A. Can get Oswald to run down some available parcels. Probably have it up in three to five months."

"Will it be expensive?"

"Got the money – you know that. Business' been good – especially The Crow's Nest…..'cept…"

"What?"

"Not sure. Diesel's been findin' empty packets on the floor last few weeks. Kind that hold drugs. Could just be some careless regular, so he's keepin' tabs. Don't need monkey wrenches in anything legit we're involved in. So….whadd'ya say - I'll give ya a house – you make it a home?"

The dog let out a muffled woof.

Amanda quietly laughed. "He agrees."

"Spoiled little shit you are," he said, scratching the dog's ears.

"Stop it," Amanda admonished him. "You adore this dog and he worships you _and _Will." She reached out to tweak the dog's ear. "Let's enjoy him for however many years he's got left before we have to go through what Tig and Daisy just did."

"Sasha was almost thirteen," Hap said, ruffling the dog's head. "He's got a good number of years in 'im still."

"Tig wants to get her a puppy. Daisy thinks it's because he doesn't want her pining for a baby. She wouldn't give up her wardrobe for nine months no matter how much her clock is ticking."

Hap let out a snort. "Those two confuse me."

"Like we confused people in the beginning?" She then swept an arm around the bed. "Now look at us?"

He gave her a dark look. "I'll have you on all fours before you so much as call us an 'ol' married couple'."

Turning to face him, she stroked Will's hair and yawned. "If it wasn't the family bed right now, I'd take you up on it."

"I'll carry 'im to bed and kick the dog out."

She shook her head, even as the distant, rolling thunder signaled the storm was subsiding and moving away. "Nah," she said, stretching her arm across her son's back until her hand rested on Hap's arm. "I like this. It's…_us_."

_Us_ – him, his wife, son, unborn daughter and even the dopey dog. The man in him wasn't afraid to admit, to himself of course, that his wife was right.

Any excuse to get a bigger bed was fine with him.


End file.
